by RH Tucker
“But he didn’t ask for my number, Jen.”
“No, he already has it. So, don’t feel bad. He’s being a jerk. It’s what guys do.”
Her comments should make me feel better, but they don’t. I take another bite of my sandwich, doing a quick scan of the area, checking out the guys that walk by. Any of them could be him, and I don’t have a clue. I let out a defeated huff, wishing I wasn’t thinking about this so much. Then my phone chimes.
Jen’s eyes widen at me, a smile creeping across her lips.
I try to fight off a smile. “No. It’s probably a tweet or a snap.”
As I pull out my phone, for some reason my heart flutters. I have my phone set to show I've received a text message, but it stays private until I open my messages. I try to keep calm, because who knows, maybe it's my mom asking what I want to have for dinner. Even if she's never texted me for that. Opening up my messages, I can't stop the smile that appears.
“It is!” Jen shouts.
"What is?" Micah says as he and Lana show up.
"Nothing," I mutter, glancing at Jen to not say anything.
We've exchanged enough silent conversations that she knows when I want to keep something a secret. Micah and Lana are our friends, Micah's in art too, and Lana is his girlfriend. We're close, but I don't tell them everything like I do with Jen. Maybe I will if this goes any further, but right now I still want to find out exactly what this is.
BigBaller27: Where do u sit for lunch?
Emerald22: At a table
I smile at my joke, before taking another bite of my lunch.
BigBaller27: Ha. Ha. Ha. <--- Fake laugh. Seriously…
Emerald22: Why do u want to know?
BigBaller27: Idk, maybe I want to buy you a soda ;)
Emerald22: With all that big baller money? And u should probably get a name from a girl before u go asking her out for a drink ;P
BigBaller27: Oh. Are u giving me ur name finally? And I wasn’t asking you “out for a drink”. Not unless you want me to
I feel my face go red and immediately slide my phone in my pocket. Oh my God, what am I doing? Did he just ask me if I wanted him to ask me out?
Chapter 7
Carter
By the time lunch is over, I still haven't received a reply from Emerald22. I'm starting to feel a little bad. I have no idea who she is, and I was joking around … for the most part. I was hoping she would give me the general area of where she sits for lunch, and I could walk by, scanning the faces. But then I had to make that ‘going out' comment. She didn't even know me. She could think I was some weirdo or something. And why in the hell was I joking around about asking a girl out, when I don't even know what she looks like?
Matt kept giving me weird looks throughout lunch and history class, but I told him I was nervous about the game tonight. That answer came with another odd stare from him because I never get nervous about the games. I feel bad about lying to him, but even if he's my best friend, I wasn't ready to tell him I have a … what do I have?
If you’d have asked me two days ago, I’d say a wrong number. After yesterday, I thought maybe I’d made a new friend. But after my stupid text earlier, now my mind is racing. Am I interested in this girl?
I'm glad our shoot-around practice before our home game is something that can take my mind off the messages. The court is one of the places I feel most comfortable. Setting my phone in my locker, I take one last look at it. I feel like I have to clear the air at least. It's been nearly two hours since my text, and I haven't heard anything.
BigBall27: Hey, sorry about that last message. I was just screwing around :/
I look at the phone, hoping a reply would show up fast, but it doesn't. Locking my locker, I head out to the court and miss nearly half my shots during the shootaround.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeremy jogs over to me.
“Nothing.” I scowl at him, before seeing Matt glance at me. Whatever he’s thinking, he keeps it to himself.
“You’re shooting like shit. I know Oceanview sucks, but we ain’t bringing home any championships either.”
“I know, Jer.”
"And we've gotten off to a good start this season. We might make the playoffs this year if we stay focused."
“I said I know.”
Lucas runs over to us and eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t say anything. He looks at Matt, silently asking him what gives, and Matt shrugs his shoulders. Jeremy and I exchange stares for a moment longer, then Coach Hallinan yells at us.
“I don’t know if you guys know this, but you actually have to play basketball. That means running, shooting, guarding. Not standing around on the court, like a bunch of asses!”
I look over at coach and wave my hand as an apology, catching up with the rest of the team. Blocking all distractions, I focus on the ball. On the net. On the defender I'm up against. Soon enough, I leave my cell phone, and my stupid text messages in the background and the game is front and center.
After the shoot-around, we head back to the lockers. I’m so annoyed with how I shot, that I quickly change and don’t even look at my phone. Jeremy makes a stupid comment about keeping our focus, making sure it’s loud enough that I hear. I’m the captain of the team, but he likes to act like he’s the leader of all of us, on and off the court. It can be annoying, but I know I run things when it’s game time. Ignoring him, I walk out to the parking lot, anxious to get home and relax before the game tonight.
“Yo, hold up,” Matt calls after me.
Opening the door, I fling my bag inside, and then scratch at the chipped paint on the roof my used Honda. It was Mom's before she surprised me by handing over the keys to me when I got my license. She'd secretly been saving up to buy herself a new car, nothing fancy, but a new one nonetheless so that I could have the Honda. Besides a few spots where the paint was chipping, it was in decent shape. And it had an AC, which is vital in Southern California.
"What's up, man?" Matt opens the passenger side door to his car, a Lexus, that's parked next to mine.
“Nothing.”
"Come on." He gives me a look that I've seen before. A look that tells me he knows I'm lying. "You started acting weird at lunch, almost like you were nervous. And you were definitely not okay in there." He points back to the gym.
Staring down at the pavement, I debate with myself on whether or not to tell him. I don’t think he’ll laugh, or say anything stupid, but I still didn't know what's going on. I'll let him know if things start to get interesting. If I start to like this girl. I can't like her right now, can I? I didn't even know her name.
“Dude, it’s all good. Other than Jeremy acting a dick on the court, per usual.”
Matt lets out a laugh, but he still gives me a suspicious look. "Yeah, I can't believe he's still not over you being named the captain and not him."
"It's like whatever." I shrug it off. "Anyways, I'll see you back here in a couple of hours."
I give him a fist bump as he gives me one last wary look, before hitting my fist. “Yeah, sure.”
Sitting in my car, I pull out my phone. If I’m tripping this much over a few text messages, this isn’t worth it. I’m just going to delete the whole conversation and hope she doesn’t text me back. That’ll put an end to it.
Turning my phone on, a new text message alert pops up. I bite my lip, unsure what it's going to read.
Emerald22: No worries. And ur not getting my name, or any dates for that matter, until I get yours ;)
And there it is. My fear is gone, and I'm smiling as I re-read the text message. Who is this girl? My text didn't freak her out. Or maybe it did, but she's not letting on from the response. It had to be friendly, right? Even a little flirty? She could've ended it after ‘no worries', but she added the name thing. And the date thing. Something that she didn’t have to do. Okay, this wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Chapter 8
Emma
As soon as I read the text message, I hide it from Jen.
She hounds me during lunch, asking what he wrote, but I can't show here. Especially with Micah and Lana sitting with us. A boy is putting it out there if I want to go out with him. And, of course, I react the way I always do. I turn into a big ball of nerves because I've put boys out of my mind. I don't need to get involved with any stupid games involving guys. But it's moments like these that make me wish I was as comfortable with guys as Jen is.
Last year, before my horrific double date, there was a guy that I thought was cute. Paxton. He was a senior, and we had art together. He had the bad-boy look, complete with leather bracelets, fingernails painted black, torn jeans, and hair hanging in front of his eyes; his bangs always a different color. He was thinner but still defined. I know, because when he'd reach up to help Ms. Hales rearrange frames or easels, I'd sneak a peek as his shirt lifted up. I had to keep myself from drooling on more than one occasion.
But, of course, I was pathetic. I'd been asked out precisely one time before that. I always kept my nose to the ground, consciously avoiding everyone. But at Jen's behest, I decided to put myself out there a little more starting my junior year. And I got noticed right away. I didn't like the first boy who asked me out, so even though I had no idea what was happening—he asked me at lunch, in front of everyone—I smiled and said, "Thanks, but I'm busy." My answer didn't seem to affect him very much, and I thought the way I handled it was entirely appropriate. Jen, on the other hand, scolded me for a week straight, saying how I should've at least gone out with him once. I didn't like him, but Paxton was a different story.
Then it happened. It was the day before winter break, and after art, he walked me to my next class. I was already having a mild panic-attack, even though I'd talked to him a little during class. But this wasn't class. He could've been anywhere, but he was next to me, asking me what kind of things I liked outside of school. Looking back on it, I was so lame. Someone asks you a question, and you answer, right? No big deal. But my stupid brain kept thinking Oh my God, Paxton's talking to me. Is he flirting with me? Should I flirt back? How do I flirt back? Should I touch his arm? No, wait, laugh at what he says.
Everything Jen had ever told me about how to ‘play the game' when going out with a boy flew through my mind. So, by the time we turned the corner, and I arrived at my next class, I just stood there, staring up at his gorgeous amber eyes.
“Emma?” he said, and I nodded with a huge, dumb, smile on my face. “Emma, did you hear what I said?”
“Oh.” I let out a soft giggle and touched his arm.
He looked down at my hand and then back at my face, confused. “Hey, are you okay?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, finally putting together the words he was saying.
“I just asked you out.”
“Oh!” I shouted, making some students around us turn and stare. “Oh.” Getting myself under control, I remembered Jen telling me you shouldn’t seem too anxious. I let out a very calm, “Yeah, that’d be cool.”
"Okay." He looked at me again, and though I didn't think it at the time, looking back on it, he was looking at me like I had escaped a mental institution.
He got my number, but I never heard from him the entire two weeks of winter break. When I got back to school, I didn't bring it up, and neither did he. He acted like I was just another classmate he was in art with.
So, even if a guy isn't asking me out, but just bringing up the possibility of me going out with him, I get totally flustered and don't know how to respond. So, I don't.
But that doesn't mean it isn't on my mind. I sit through my entire history class, trying to pay attention, but instead thinking of how to reply. I don't want to shut the door on him completely. He's the one who initiated texting again, asking where I sit for lunch. He's the one that brought up bringing me a soda. He's the one putting it out there. Even if I'm not ready to meet him and find out exactly who he was, I don't want to say no. But I have no idea what to say.
Even through art class, it's still scrambling my brain. We're doing life drawing and today is the ever-ready and always dependable, bowl of fruit, but I can't even focus on it. I tried sketching the bowl, the apples and pears, and it all looks like garbage. Or maybe's it's great, but I can't think straight. It's been nearly two hours, and I have no clue what to reply.
As I meet Jen at her car, she hounds me about the text message again, and I finally cave, showing her my phone.
"Oh, my God!" She reaches for the phone, but I keep a death lock on it. "He practically asked you out."
“I know!”
"No, Emma. This is a good thing. It can be like a blind date or something." She claps her hands, totally giddy.
“Jen, this is horrible!” She shoots me a frown. “You know how I am. You know what happened last year with Paxton. I’m no good at these things.”
"Well, fine." She lets out a huff, putting her keys in the ignition. "Tell him you're not interested then."
“But—“ I stop myself, but it's too late.
Jen's eyes jump to me, a newly excited grin on her lips. "You are interested!”
"I can't believe this. I don't even know the guy. But from these texts, he seems nice. Maybe I could be interested, but I have no clue how to react. I'm not like you; my brain turns to mush when it comes to this stuff."
Even though she pushes my buttons from time to time, and yeah, I want to strangle her on occasion, Jen knows my limits.
“Emma, calm down. Let me see your phone.” I shoot her a concerned look, the death lock still engaged on my phone. “I’ll put it out there for you.”
“No way!”
My phone chimes.
BigBaller27: Hey, sorry about that last message. I was just screwing around :/
“Oh, no.” I groan as I read the message to her.
“Wait, isn’t this what you wanted? He practically took it back.”
“That’s not what I wanted.” I let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, I don’t want to go out on a date with him, right now. But maybe, I don’t know, in the future. I wanted to have that possibility.”
Jen's eyebrows scrunch together, and I can tell she's thinking of something. "Gimme your phone."
“No.”
“Emma, seriously. Just let me read the whole conversation. I promise I won’t reply unless you approve it.”
Giving her an unconvinced stare, I slowly hold my hand out. She reaches over to take my phone, but my fingers stay clasped around it. "You promise?"
“I promise.”
It's weird, watching her scroll through my messages. She nods a little, raising her eyebrows a couple of times as if she's digesting the conversation and coming up with a plan. I start fidgeting with my fingers, getting more anxious.
"Okay." She taps a finger to her lips. "He does come off kind of nice, when you read the whole thing in context."
“Okay?”
"So, I think he was serious. At lunch. But then you took forever to reply, so he freaked out. I would too if I threw something like that out there and the boy didn't reply."
“Not helping.”
“But, I don’t know if he really wanted to take it back. He just wanted to make sure you’re cool, you know?” I nod, her answer somehow making sense. “So, I’m gonna type—”
“No!” I lunge for my phone.
"Stop," she says with a laugh, keeping me at bay with one arm. "Listen, I'm going to type a reply, and I'm not going to send it unless you say it's okay. All right?"
I nervously chew on the inside of my lip, as I give her an uneasy nod of approval.
She begins typing and talking out loud as she does. "‘No worries. And you're not getting my name, or any dates for that matter,’” she emphasizes those words as she’s smiling, “‘until I get yours.’ And I’m adding a winky-smiley face.”
She turns the phone around, and I read it to myself. It sounds good. It's simple and friendly, but it's still a little flirty. I smile at her, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Good?” she asks.
&
nbsp; “That’s perfect.”
“Okay.” She looks back at the phone, hits send, and hands it back to me. “There.”
“Jen, you’re a lifesaver.”
She laughs as she starts up her car. “Of course, I am. We should get those little two-way radios, that we can put in our ears. That way, when do you go out with Mystery Boy, I can help you.”
“Yeah.” I laugh with her, as we head out on the road.
That does sound like a good idea, and lord knows I could use as much of Jen's help as I can get, but there's a little piece inside that tells me I need to get it together. I haven't even met this guy, and I'm freaking out. I need to start playing it cool.
And then it hits me. I don't need to play anything. That's how I ended up like this in the first place, trying to play these stupid dating games. So, as we drive to my house, I decide. I'm going to be who I am. I'm not going to try and be flirty like Jen because that's not me. And if Big Baller doesn't like it, then it's his loss.
Of course, all those plans go out the window when I don't hear back from him for the next two hours. As I sit at home, I can't help but reach for my phone every five minutes, anticipating what he'll reply with. I try to distract myself with homework, but it's no use. I end up regularly checking my phone, then try to distract myself with the internet, before rechecking my phone. Until, finally, I get a reply.
BigBaller27: Well, then, we seem to be at an impasse. How do I know ur not some crazy chick who’ll stalk me, if I give u my name? :D
I take a deep breath, reminding myself just to be me. To treat him like a friend.
Emerald22: I could say the same about u lol
BigBaller27: Fair enough. We can still text though.
Emerald22: Yeah. Who knows when you’ll need another homework assignment :’)